


To Make a Prince Smile

by LizzyMay



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Pining, Prince/servant, Re-upload, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:48:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23881813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzyMay/pseuds/LizzyMay
Summary: REUPLOADThe Grave Prince Roxas has not smiled since the invasion of Neverwas. Axel, a servant with a penchant for trouble, didn't know that.
Relationships: Axel/Roxas (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	1. The Grave Prince

The crown clattered down the staircase.

The noise bounced off the walls, into the ears of those who failed to catch it. The pit of glass, the shear of metal against stone, the fracture of jewels. Their hearts stopped, frozen. A bad omen. Wide, fearful eyes that could only watch as it tumbled down the steps without its master. It hit the floor. It rolled, falling into a spin, before coming to rest at a servant’s feet.

Axel picked it up.

It was lighter than he had expected. An item with a heavy load to bear would surely feel as dense as the expectations placed upon it. It was more of a circlet than a crown. A thick band of brilliant gold. Blinding, if the light sat upon it correctly. The greatest reflection of the wealth of its wearer. He turned it in his hands, frowning. It had been altered by someone unfamiliar with the metal; a large weld visible down the back of the band. That, and the jewel inserts were out of the pattern. Precious blue gemstones forced into holes they were not made for. It was a shame, he thought, running his thumb over the warm metal. Some idiot had even forgotten to replace a large jewel at the front. He was pulled out of his musings by a low growl, freezing as slow, angry footsteps began to descend the staircase. Like a fool, he looked up.

The Grave Prince.

Never had he heard a name more fitting. Not a hint of laughter graced his face. No lines or creases marred his immaculate skin. His youthful glow diminished only by the scowl that shadowed his expression and cursed him with his namesake. A Prince of Light. A Prince of unfathomable power.

The foul-tempered Prince of Neverwas - was the most striking creature he had ever seen. 

Short, thick, curly hair sat atop his head, golden like his crown and unruly in its nature. Someone had tried to push it back, away from his face. The hair, like its owner, was stubborn; defying the will of a maid and coming to a natural rest across his forehead. Rich fabrics adorned his skin. His evening dress was sharp, precise, perfect. A suit, with a dark blue tie clasping the fabric of his shirt high onto his neck. A long cape flared out behind him, creating an immense shadow. He looked twice the size he was, a presence hiding in the gold and silver threads that weaved within the sea of blue. Jewels sparkled off every inch of his person, his ears, his neck, his wrists. A single silver band proudly displayed on his middle finger, flashing as he stalked ever closer to the slack-jawed fool at the bottom of the stairs. But it wasn’t this overwhelming force that held him still.

It was those eyes. A piercing blue, with a singular focus on the filth that dared to touch his crown. The wrath of the Elders thundering through them, sparkling with a hatred that he had never seen from one person. He found himself unable to look away. They were gorgeous. Deep. Wise beyond their sweet twenty years. Framed by thick lashes, holding a portrait of the glittering oceans, power swirling in pools around black irises. They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul. A raging war could be found behind a cold veil.

Axel flooded with a nervous heat, his knuckles turning white around the crown, leaving indents in the metal. Now was not the time to lose his control over his power. He collapsed to his knees, ignoring the pain that shot through his kneecaps, and held the circlet high above his head. How did he even get into this mess? He knew he should have gone back and asked for directions. Trust him to get into trouble on his first day at Light’s End. He held his breath between his lips, swallowing the urge to be violently sick. His heart thudding to the beat of the footfalls on stone. Until they stopped. And for a moment, nothing happened.

Axel dared to take a peek at his future king. The Grave Prince sneered at his pathetic servant. Despite himself, Axel tried to smile, sweating bullets. The Prince raised his hand sharply, Axel turning his head and bracing himself.

The weight of the crown was lifted from his palms.

He opened his eyes to the crown back in its rightful place. With one last poisonous glare, the Prince stalked past him. Axel watched him go, the cape that dragged on the floor catching on his knees. He released the breath he had been holding, his heart pulsing in his ears and rattling against his ribs. The fire within him licking at his fingers and leaking out of him as he let go of his panic. It could have been worse. Despite himself, he reached out to the cape, his fingers grazing the fabric. The fluttering edge tickling his fingertip, like a child he grasped it.

A set of heavy footsteps came hurtling towards him. Axel didn’t have enough time to register the face of the Prince’s personal guard or anticipate the swift kick that was delivered to his chest. He let out a sharp cry, falling to his side and clutching his bruised ribs. Ah yes. It would be a very bad move to grab the fabric tied to the Prince’s neck. He glared at the heels of the Prince’s guard, pacing back to her master’s side. An obedient dog, he thought as he rubbed his rib. He sat up, wincing as a pain shot through his side. Not the worst he had ever had. Axel managed to pull himself up off the ground, straightening out his uniform as he stood. Safe to say that he hadn’t made a good impression on his first day.

At least he had survived his encounter with The Grave Prince. If the rumours were true, a kick in the ribs would be considered a lucky escape. But now wasn’t the time to think about how lucky he was to be alive. He was late. Being late was not going to help his day of bad impressions. Dusting off his knees, his attention was brought to something glittering on the floor. A sense of dread washed over him, picking the thing up. It was a blue jewel. The hole in the crown…

He nearly dropped it, catching it out of the air as fast as he had let it go. Of course, he would pick it up. He should stop picking things up altogether. The next thing he finds on the floor he was going to leave well alone. It was doing nothing but getting him into deeper and deeper trouble.

Though, this could be his saving grace. He wouldn’t have to show up for this stupid job if he could… no. No. He had sworn off that. He doubted anyone would believe that he had ‘found’ the iconic gem in the Prince’s crown lying around. The gem burned a hole in his hand. He should probably give it back. There could be a greater reward. At least, it was better than being executed. Better than leaving his family alone.

He looked to the Grave Prince and watched as he stalked towards the Great Hall, dog in tow. Ah. Bugger.

Surely the Prince would understand. He can’t be that unreasonable that he would execute him for returning what is rightfully his. In fact, if he didn’t return the gem, he would be showing gross incompetence. No problem-solving skills. No integrity. If anything, it would be a complete embarrassment that no other servant had noticed that the Prince’s outfit was less than perfect. Especially at such an important banquet. ‘The Gathering of the Four’, as it had been explained to him at the mornings’ preparations. It didn’t mean much to Axel, but it seemed to be a big deal. Axel pocketed the jewel, bolting down the corridor after the Prince, somewhat surprised the Prince’s pet hadn’t heard his feet slapping against the slabs of stone. The Grave Prince approached the steward, pausing in his stride, awaiting his announcement. Perfect.

A firm grip grabbed a hold of his wrist.

A sharp tug and he was dragged away from the Prince. There wasn’t much Axel could do but trip over his own feet, and very little he could have done to stop the squawk of protest that left his mouth. One that may have contained a tasteful swear within earshot of the Prince. At least it was tasteful.

“I leave you alone for five minutes. Five. minutes.” His kidnapper hissed. Though, it wasn’t a hiss. More a masked shout. “Must you run when the Crown Prince is right in front of you?”

Ah. The exasperated tone that could only belong to the Master of Halls, Saix. Axel could identify it a mile away and could feel his boss’ migraine that had aged him forty years. In truth, he was only a year senior to Axel. Stress isn’t a good look on anyone.

Saix ruled the Halls of Light’s End as if they were kingdoms of their own, and it wasn’t a title he took lightly. From his pristine uniform to the shine of his copper Iris flower pin identifying him as a senior member of the household, he was every inch management royalty. Everything ran so smoothly, so tightly under his guidance that not even a thread of carpet would dare come out of place. Servants dressed in matching black uniforms and copper buttons. Bouquets of deep blue iris that matched the royal coat of arms. Tablecloths ironed so flat you’d be scared to sneeze on them. It was all perfect.

Well. Apart from the Prince’s appearance, Axel opened his mouth to say so before being silenced by the booming voice of the Steward.

“Presenting The Crown Prince of Neverwas, his Royal Highness Rokusasu Lucis Caelum.”

Dammit. Axel pulled Saix with him as he scrambled to get a view of the room.

The Prince stepped into the Great Hall, glowing under the casted lights. He descended the steps and was escorted over to his seat at the head of the table, his steely gaze greeting each of his guests. So there were more than four. Why call it the Banquet of the Four if there were going to be more?

There were many Nobles crowded into one room, all flashing their wealth and importance. Axel had no clue as to who they were. Royalty from the far-flung corners of Felliin. Prominent Wielders of the Elements from both Light and Dark origins, all dressed in their finest suits and scholarly medallions. Why you’d want a piece of metal telling everyone how clever you were was beyond Axel. He could light a few candles and no one ever gave him a coin. Mimics had found their way onto the table, evident from their need to flaunt their magic, wine glasses floating beside them.

All of them brilliant. All of them wildly out of touch with reality.

Even the Elder Mage had made his appearance, Yen Sid’s stoic presence rivalling that of the Crown Prince. Axel only knew his name from the stories his father would tell him when he was a child. Yen Sid and the Tower of Brooms was a classic… though there would be time later to think fondly on that memory. Right now, Axel’s wrist was bending backwards.

He shook off Saix’s grip, peering back into the Great Hall.

The Grave Prince paused by his seat. Those searing eyes of his looking to the only seated person at the table.

She was a beauty too. Blonde curls and rosy cheeks, a gown that made her look as though she was sitting on a pink fluffy cloud... What was it with these people? Did they all insist on being beautiful or was it just because you could hear generations worth of coins ping about their pockets? Axel shook his head at his thoughts, trying not to glare at the fabulously rich. 

The Grave Prince bowed to her, and at the nod of her head, he sat. Followed by everyone else at the table. The Princess smiled at him, though, he failed to return the gesture. This seemed rude to Axel, but then again, what did he know about correct gesture?

Was the banquet for peace? If it was, the Prince wasn’t doing a very good job at building relations… in Axel’s opinion. But that aside.

How to get into the Great Hall?

Axel squinted and tried to locate where the servants were coming from. It was a bit like trying to pinpoint the spawn point of an ants nest. So many people fluttering around the nobles, fussing over their wine cups and dishing out starters. Not only that, but the nobles were flanked by their servants, who had everything filtered through them. Because Nobles couldn’t possibly be troubled with the choice of a smoked salmon with prawns, horseradish cream and lime vinaigrette or a twice-baked goats-cheese souffle with apple and walnut salad. If Axel was honest, he’d be a happy chappie with a mushroom soup and a roll. That wasn’t an option here.

The Prince unenthusiastically chose the goat cheese souffle. As did half the table on realising the Prince’s choice. What a fun way to curry favour with the Prince. Good thing Axel was going to do that by ramming a rock into his head. Mushroom soup or none.

As the relay of starters began, servants fled from the kitchen to pass the starter to another servant, who passed it to the minders of the nobles, who approved it and allowed it to be set before their liege.

So… the kitchen?

“Axel, what are you doing?” Saix asked from behind, causing Axel to leap ten feet in the air. He completely forgot he was there. Axel whipped around, his finger jabbing the air between the Prince and himself.

“Before you get cross, I didn’t take it.”

“Right.”

“He dropped this” Axel showed Saix the jewel, tapping it with the frantic finger. “But he just waltzed in there! I need to give it back!”

“’He’ is your Prince, would you kindly use the correct term of address?.” Saix rolled his eyes, exhaustion creeping onto his face. “Must you give it back now?”

“If I don’t, I’ll be dead by sunrise.”

Saix groaned, pinching his nose. After a moment of pained thought, he glared at Axel.

“Fine.”

Axel was mid internal celebration before Saix cut him off.

“If you think you are going into the Hall through the front door, you are most mistaken. Come with me.” Saix said, turning on his heel and entering a service corridor that had been cleverly disguised beneath a tapestry. Axel, touching his face, dutifully trotted after Saix.

The clack of Saix’s shoes echoing off the stone walls, making him sound far more authoritative than Axel took him for. It was brightly lit, considering it was still in use, with a few servants apologising when passing the pair. He didn’t know why they were apologising to him, he was the lowest ranking in the Great Hall. Placed on the only job Saix hoped he wouldn’t mess up.

So it was going well then.

He made a mental note to himself to behave. The terms of his employment were more of a favour to his mother than to him. He was sure she was used to disappointment by now.

The service corridor led to a magnificent kitchen. Heavy cast iron stoves lined the walls, the heat of which would knock a normal person backwards. Herbs and saucepans were suspended from the ceiling, pots and pans lay in organised chaos on the workbenches. The smell coming from the ovens coated the senses like a lover’s kiss. Hungry and wanting but leaving all too soon. Axel wished he had more eyes to take it all in. It was full of the best chefs the kingdom could offer. Masters, apprentices, pot washers and servers. They functioned in an elaborate dance, twirling around each other, calling instructions, neatly passing plates around the workspaces. Were they people or cogs in a carefully crafted watch? Axel didn’t know and certainly didn’t want to get in the way. The pair weaved in and out of the professionals until they reached the exit to the Great Hall. Axel poked his head out of the servant’s door.

“How am I getting in?”

He almost dropped the wine pitcher that was thrust into his hands.

“By doing your job. Forget about the jewel, you can give it back later. You must serve your Prince.” Saix pointed out to the Hall, not really in the mood to explain things twice to Axel.

“If my head ends up on a spike, I’m blaming you.”

“You’ll be too dead to blame anyone. Now move!”

Axel was jostled into a march of servants making their way to the table. He tried his best to avoid those taking plates back to the kitchen and willed the warmth in his hands away. They all squashed themselves through one doorway, bursting out into the expansive hall and sprawling out across dark wood floors and decorated tables. Axel felt utterly lost, wracking his brain back to rehearsal that morning. Where was he meant to stand again? The number of bodies that waltzed passed him made him feel dizzy, and none seemed happy to stop to show the new guy where on earth he was meant to go. Towards the Prince! Start at the Prince!

Said Prince had had enough starter after a few small mouthfuls.

The moment he had placed his spoon on the table, the servants descended onto the table, whipping away everyone’s plates. Even those who had not had the chance to touch it. It was a shame, the souffle looked nicer up close. Maybe if Axel was a Prince he would have had that.

If he was a prince… what a strange idea.

Axel swallowed thickly. Pull yourself together, he thought, holding his nerve as well as he was holding the pitcher. To successfully pour wine, he must start at the head of the table. Which just so happened to be the Prince. Easy enough. He’ll engage the Prince in friendly conversation, give him the jewel and promptly quit his job.  
He stepped up to the Prince, asking in a voice that was so far removed from how he naturally sounded it boarded on making a mockery of the Royal Family.

“Would you care for more wine, Your Highness?”

Ignored.

It wasn’t exactly the conversation starter he had hoped for. The Grave Prince’s glass looked full anyway. Never mind… he’ll have to try again on his next lap of the table. He couldn’t just go from the Prince’s right to the Prince’s left without offering wine to the rest of the guests. To offer the Prince wine twice would insult the nobility and bring shame to the royal household. That, and the whole idea behind the stupid ritual is that by the time he completed a lap, the Prince’s glass would require refilling, and the cycle could continue again.

He took a step away from the Prince, resigning himself to the mind-numbingly boring task of pouring endless cups of wine. He hoped he could get him next time. End his suffering early. He turned to his next guest, only for a short cough to come from behind. Axel turned back, blinking. A short, snooty man with a collar so tight he looked like he might be dying, eyed Axel with dismay.

“You have not filled His Highness’s glass.” He said stiffly. This must be the Prince’s Aide, Axel thought, staring down at him. Hmph. 

Axel looked back to the glass, then the Aide.

“But it’s full.”

The Aide coughed back a condescending chortle. The audacity of this wine pourer! He shook his head, his face turning to one that reflected his masters quite well. No wonder he got the job of minding the Grave Prince.

“The Prince has taken a sip. You must refill his glass”

“And I will, once the Prince has had more.”

A beat of silence passed between them.

“The Prince has taken some wine. The glass is not full. You must refill the glass”

“But the glass is still full. See? If I filled it up it will spill on him.”

“Then that is a matter of your ability to pour, not the Prince’s ability to drink. You must refill his glass.”

A snort came from the table.

Axel’s eyes darted down to the Prince, who ‘appeared’ to be in deep conversation with one of the Princes… Prince Sora, Axel surprised himself in recalling. Not that he had ever met the guy personally. His face had only been plastered on every festival poster back in Radiant Garden. Axel had spent many of his childhood summers improving the portraits with a nice moustache.

The Grave Prince wasn’t enjoying Prince Sora’s wild storytelling. His icy expression frozen in place. Yet...Axel couldn’t help but think the Prince was listening in to their dispute over his glass. If he was, he wanted the Prince to realise how much of a moron his Aide was. He had been to a very intense workshop about wine pouring. He knew when the damn cup was full and when it required refilling.

He decided to be difficult.

“I’m new. This is the first banquet I have attended as a pourer. I don’t really want to ruin the Prince’s suit.”

The Aide glared at Axel, his left eye twitching. He was unable to give him the bollocking he absolutely would have administered if his master wasn’t sitting within earshot. In a firm, low voice the Aide repeated.

“You must refill the glass”

Well, if he must refill the glass, he must refill the glass.

Axel tried not to stomp, but he did. He parked himself nice and snug next to the Prince, smiling as horribly as he could to the Aide.

“Would you, Your Highness, care for some more wine, Your Highness?” He said cheerfully through gritted teeth.

The Prince looked up, torn away from his conversation.

“Obviously. As you can see” The Prince’s empty eyes flicked from the glass to the servant. “My glass is empty.”

Axel internally imploded, resisting the urge to show the Prince how full it was by drowning him in it.

“Indeed it is, Your Highness. My error.”

With his hands shaking with fury, Axel made sure he filled the wine glass as full as humanly possible. Once he was done, he stepped away from the Prince, those cold eyes burning into his back. He shivered. Axel had to bite his tongue to stop it from being stuck out at the Aide. He made his way around the table.

Dinner was served. Glazed roast beef with shallots and red wine, grilled sea bass and more salmon, roast pork belly, lamb shank with rosemary gravy. Vegetables with more than one’s average goose-fat roast potato and caramelised carrot. Some Axel wasn’t sure he had seen before, his stomach panged with a hunger he had learnt to ignore.

If only he was a Prince.

Little pots of mint sauce, cranberry sauce and mustard were placed at various intervals on the table. Enough so no guest would ever make more than an extended arm movement to reach one. What was that… bread sauce? What on earth was bread sauce?

Axel didn’t know, and nearly flooded a glass of wine when he was a little too taken with the smell of it. Though the blonde Princess did not mind, instead, giggling at his antics. He made sure to avoid The Grave Prince’s poisonous glare as he shuffled along to the next guest. Though he threw her a sheepish smile in apology. How embarrassing.

Focus Axel.

This course seemed to run on longer than the starter course. Maybe the Prince was more of a ‘mains’ type of person, though his plate looked sparse compared to the gluttons around him. There must be something he liked. It wasn’t like he was restricted by choice. Axel wished he had such a luxury… his meals came as whatever he could afford. Often it was a whole lot of nothing, so his mother and his sister could eat. Not much meat at all. Imagine affording that? This slice of juicy lamb was starting to make Axel’s mouth water, his stomach growling angrily. This was a great flex of wealth if Axel had ever seen one. He’d only ever shown off a pair of rain boots, and they had been torn from his feet on his first outing. No. This slice of lamb? Life-changing to even be able to sniff it.

Oh whoops.

Wine tumbled down the side of the glass.

In his haste to stop it, his flailing hand knocked the glass over. The wine was flung all over the table, coating guests in the immediate vicinity. The dark red bleeding into a centuries-old tablecloth that had served generations of banquets. Axel felt the colour drain from his entire body. The glass shattered on impact with the table. Crystal shards flung themselves into nearby dinner plates, despite Axel trying to catch them, and inadvertently punching Yen Sid’s beef. Gravy flew into the mix of wine and glass. It splattered all over the Elder Wizard’s robes. Axel tried to clean it, spitting onto a napkin and reaching over to dab at the gown. The jug was hastily placed onto the table, then knocked by Axel’s elbow, dispensing its entire contents into Yen Sid’s lap.

The room fell silent.

He wanted to waste away, halting in his tracks. A horrified look painted his face as he made eye contact with the powerful wizard.

Yen Sid stood up sharply, his chair falling to the ground. He seized the front of Axel’s shirt, raising his hand high above his head, preparing to strike Axel into the next millennia. Axel braced himself, the hand hurtling towards his sensitive cheek.

Suddenly stopping mid-air.

To the sound of…Laughter? All eyes flew up to the head of the table.

The Grave Prince was beside himself.

Beautiful blue eyes alight with joy, tears pouring down flush cheeks and wiped to avail. His hand failing to conceal the cheek splitting grin that refused to disappear. His nose scrunched up with utter glee, helpless to the snorts that left him. Every time he opened his eyes to review the scene, he lost all composure, falling back into peals of laughter. The sound ringing out loud in the silence of the hall.

It was beautiful, musical. The sound both delicate yet full. It blossomed into every inch of the room, only pausing when the Prince attempted to pull himself together, failing miserably every time he glanced at Axel. He crumbled into undignified snorts, a myriad of confused hand gestures, and short cries of ‘idiot’ and ‘what did he-?’. A hand smacked the table in one of his fits of laughter, throwing the guests out of their trance. Even the servants had paused in their actions to gawk at their Prince, only to resume their duties on the sound.

But the laughter didn’t stop.

Axel felt weak at the knees, breathless, his heart racing in his head. His pulse hiding in his cheeks, his natural heat pooling in his chest and shaking his hands. He had just watched the Prince explode into someone new. Handsome and utterly charming. Their eyes made contact. Dazzling blue to striking green. For a moment, the world felt like it was halting in its turn, the world blooming into a new throw of colour. Nothing else mattered, nothing apart from this Prince and this smile and that laugh. 

Until it did matter.

Axel noticed that, unfortunately, the attention of the room no longer sat on the Prince. All eyes returned to Axel. Some glaring. Some in a state of shock. Some confused. Some murderous.

Axel decided the best course of action was to leave.

He bowed in a pathetic apology to the Elder Mage and paced it over to the kitchen door. Oh, he was in for hanging now. That was it. His mother would be thrown out to the streets. His sister forced into the life he had led before. He had really tried this time. He really had. Maybe they’ll comb his hair before mounting his head on the castle gates. A nice little plait or something, he could never do them to himself. Then again, it wouldn’t matter.  
He’d dead. Deader than dead.

He nearly made it to the kitchen door when the Prince spoke up.

“W-wait!” The Prince wheezed, “W-wait come b-ha-ck”.

Axel froze.

Well. This was it. He took in a slow, deep breath, turning back towards the Prince. He could hear his footsteps against the stone floor. Noticing that the room had once again fallen silent, and how everyone must be chomping at the bit to see when the Prince would set the trial. If he was lucky enough to get a trial. A good old hanging to get everyone else in a good a mood as the Prince. This must be the calm before the storm. Maybe the Prince was laughing at the idea of him begging for his life in front of a room of subjects. How fun. But nothing of that sort came.

Instead, the Prince lifted a shaking hand and took his glass from the table.

Through the occasional snort, he managed to down the entire glass of every drop. He locked eyes with his bemused servant, his own lit up with an elated spell no wizard could have possibly conjured; he held out his glass.

“My glass is empty.” He said, this time allowing his grin to shine through. He took on the mocking tone of his Aide.

“You must refill my glass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, let's do this thing one more time.
> 
> So, the fic is back! Ta da!
> 
> Behind the scenes, I have been working on this as an original piece. This chapter is the re-written version my OC's are currently playing in, and probably the only completely rewritten scene I will include. Mostly due to the fact the world the OC's are in is completely different and doesn't make sense in the context of a KH fanfiction. hey ho. If anyone is interested in the new version, please let me know! The fanfiction and the original work have split off from each other, and take a different turn at a certain point. This will just be the fanfiction reuploaded. Thanks to everyone who messaged me asking where the fic went... i thought whilst you wait for the new version, you may as well have the old one.
> 
> Comments are golden, I would love to know what you guys think!! Thank you all <3


	2. The Lord's Six

Night descended onto the streets of Neverwas.

The darkness falling like a cloak onto the walled capital. It trapped the chill of Winter in the winding streets. Those stupid enough to be walking around at this hour curled into their jackets and covered their frost nipped noses. 

One, stupid enough to be walking around at this hour, so happened to be Axel. He had little choice. He stuffed his hands so roughly into his jacket that he lost the patches holding his pockets together. The snow around him receding into the sides of the pavement, dissolving into a far more cowardly state as the man stomped his way through the labyrinth that was the Gradient.

It wasn’t like he had meant to throw wine on Yen Sid. If he had done it with feeling, he would have at least aimed for the face. He didn’t think it was fair that he wasn’t paid for the night, nor how apparently physical punishment was allowed in the Palace. The slap stung red against his flushed face, his lips tightened into a shame-filled scowl, his eyes never lifting from the street before him.

So much for ‘friendly and positive team’. So much for that.

It was the hiss of evaporating water that alerted Axel to the fact he may be getting a little too worked up. He paused in his stride, watching as the water around his shoes bubbled and vanished. The little puff of steam that floated away from the soles of his feet serving as his final warning. Put a lid on it, he told himself. It was just a slap. You’ve had worse before, and you’ll probably get a few more slaps tomorrow. He sighed, his breath crystallising against the cold air and whisping past his face. He may even get his pay tomorrow. If only he would behave and not throw wine over Neverwas’ Nobility. 

He trudged on.

For many who lived within the inner clusters of Neverwas, Winter meant the coming of goddess. The Elder Goddess of Darkness to be exact. The goddess to those blessed with the gift of taking. Not that Axel bought into any of that rubbish. He saw it as another excuse for a party he would never be invited to. As Winter closed in, and the Outer district grew colder, the rest of the city congratulated themselves on another year well passed. Lucky that they survived another one. What was that line? The one he had heard so many times before?

‘For she took the sun and warmth and made it her own.’

There was no greater demonstration of ‘taking’ than Goddess Arrival. Those selfish and rich buy copious amounts of food, stuffing themselves stupid to the point of sickness. They would drink sweet ales, warm wines. Eat thick chocolates and fluffy desserts. Indulged themselves in the unsavoury acts of ‘giving’, seeking their immediate reward. They congratulate themselves on their acts of ‘charity’. The greedy look upon their decorated homes and fat families. Their stocked kitchens and warm beds. They do not spare a single thought to those begging at their feet. Those fighting for another moment, another breath, another chance. 

That was the truth of Darkness. To take and to take until there is nothing left. 

Yet even those blessed with the gift of Light couldn’t resist the pull of taking. Why would they? They spend all year giving, they may as well give themselves the excuse to ignore their birth rights and takes and take and take. Light, Darkness, and those without would gather to set the city alight with festivities. Surrounding the palace with plenty. Live music flooded the streets, the main square swarming with people. Chatting, singing, laughing. They poured in from the other districts, roads so full one could hardly walk against the grain. People insisting on holding hands, dancing, walking in packs too large to squeeze down the narrow streets that lead to the large square. The parade of the wealthy, the happy, the full. Taverns overwhelmed with patrons, serving pints upon pints of beer. Feeding so many chubby cheeks and greedy mouths that drool thick saliva over the table. The warm fires that filter light through single-paned glass and onto the empty streets. Enough so young ladies grab their partner’s arm. ‘Should we stop for a bite?’, and the answer would always be yes. They enter the tavern and leave their snow-dusted coats on the rack, their frosted noses enjoying the change in temperature. They sit for an evening of divine luxury, choosing thick stews and fresh loaves of bread. The smell is glorious.

Axel watched the young couple enter, the painful squeeze of his stomach becoming difficult to ignore.

“I know, I know,” He said to himself. “I know.”

Sometimes it was better to just keep on walking. 

He turned away from the pleasant glow, to the bitter air that swept through the streets. It cut straight through him. The warmth that ran in his blood flooding to the patched material of his jacket, a comfort against the bite of winter. His old hat barely containing his shock of red hair, the wool pulled tightly around his ears. Something to fend off the last dregs of cold that his warmth would fail to reach. To give fire. To give and to give until he himself froze over from his noble act of giving. Truly, the Goddess’ were cruel to give him such a ‘gift’. A warmth he could never use for himself. It made a bitter chuckle rise from his throat. Yeah. It was a gift alright. 

He walked onwards, down, down into the depths of side alleys and squashed housing. The night was growing old, and he must return ‘home’. Not that ‘home’ was going to be much warmer. It made him wonder, as he often did as he turned into the residential streets, if he would ever get to go ‘home’ at all. Those houses he walked past with their secured doors and beautiful gardens. No doubt warm. With a bed as soft as the clouds over Destiny Islands, lulling the persons to sleep and throwing their cares aside for an evening. Safe and sound… perhaps it could one day be back in his reach. 

On special occasions, such as the Prince’s birthday, bunting would start to be hung from here, stretching all the way to the Circle. Axel had taken Shiki to the last parade for the Prince’s birthday, they had stopped somewhere along here to try and catch a glimpse of him. They had failed miserably, instead, managing to get trampled under the sea of adoring citizens. Having now seen the Prince up close for himself, he could completely understand. The Prince is a beauty, and his laughter, the sweetest music ever played. For Elder’s sake, he couldn't get it out of his head. He needed to get it out of his head. That smile and that laughter and that Prince. Entertaining those thoughts was pointless. 

It made for a long walk home from the Palace. 

Axel considered himself lucky, really. He didn’t think he could stand living amongst the rich and pretentious. Pretending to be something he isn’t so he could claw more power and money. Going to parties and laughing at jokes that aren’t funny. Nah, that wasn’t him. He enjoyed the unpredictability that came with living on the outskirts of Neverwas. No, really. Being on the outskirts meant that he was the closest to the wall- ergo if the wall was breached by an enemy, his family would be the first to die. You know, to stall time for the nobles to bury their cheeses and hide their gold. Something just to keep him on his toes, you know? 

He certainly couldn’t live in the Inner Circle. A sharp turn into luxury. Imagine people eating quail eggs for breakfast rather than chicken eggs, and you know exactly the type of person they are. Champagne brunches and children that are all miniatures of their parents. Some were rumoured to be richer than the royal family themselves, though Axel doubted that. Perfectly cobbled streets with perfumed scents wafting off the necks of those rich enough to bathe in ass milk. Carefully maintained hedges and stunning front gardens with a personal guard protecting each doorway. The houses towered over the street, exuding wealth with varnished wood and clean white plaster. These were places Axel had no hope in hell of ever living in. So, what was the point of awing over them? As Shiki said ‘I bet their husbands sleep in separate rooms’. 

People like Axel had to be careful around those parts. He couldn’t stand to live there, but he wouldn’t be welcomed with open arms either. He would bow his head as he walked through that part of the city. Though the Night was old, and those streets empty, making eye contact with the wrong noble at the wrong time of day could be deemed as a threat. A one-way ticket to an unfair trial and a hanging. Axel really wasn’t joking. If he recalled, all this poor chap did was pick up the fair ladies’ umbrella for her. Rumour has it that he is still dangling off the side of the Palace wall… Axel didn’t feel brave enough to look. So he didn’t. 

He paused in his walk, turning back to look at the Palace lit up against the inky black sky.

The Palace sat in the dead centre of the city and was fucking ginormous.

Sorry, but there was no other way to describe it.

Axel could try to describe how enormous it is, but he really didn’t have the vocabulary to talk about its strong, imposing walls and towers that almost touched the clouds. It was recognisable for miles around, even just talking of the white Palace sent people’s imaginations reeling. How many rooms did it have? Axel didn’t know. He wasn’t even sure most people knew. Did it have a moat? If you were brave enough to look down whilst you were crossing the bridge, you might find out. Axel wasn’t going to look. No thanks. It was a beacon of safety for its citizens and a threat to all those outside. As a Palace rightly should be.

And right as it should be, it was a constant reminder of his place in this world. Small. Insignificant. That his family live in the gutter of this magnificent place of hope and safety. That the plenty do not see him from their windows, that they are able to look over the walls of the city and see the freedom of rolling hills and flowing rivers. Blind to the plight of the people who lived in their lap. A stone throws away. A thousand desperate hands reaching out for help, reaching to the people that did this to them. He scowled. If he was them, if he could be, he would tear down these walls and usher in these hungry souls. Not that he ever could.  
He turned on his heel, turning to the entrance of the Outer District. A far cry from bunting and quails’ eggs and white plaster walls. A quick step through a dingy alley, careful not to raise his eyes from the broken streets. He knew these streets like the back of his hand. Axel had to; it was sort of important to know your way around when you had the baker’s dogs after you. It was one loaf of bread. One! He had a whole shop full of bread. Really, he was rude for not sharing it in the first place.

The alley led him straight to a worn-out house. House turned soup-kitchen, run by some of those ‘nice’ gradient people. The ones that came every so often and thought they were changing the world with a bowl of soup. Woah there, reel it in, Axel thought to himself. They did a good job, a thankless job. Just because he was hungry didn’t mean he got to take it out on other people. He let some of his heat go, just a little. 

A doorframe without the door, a flickering light in a patched-up window. The sound of people, talking in all tongues, mumbling together in a disorganised orchestra. He spied a familiar frame, tucking in the shawl around her shoulders a little bit tighter. She seemed worried. Looking around. He knew she would be anxious, she always was. Their eyes met, and her tiny frame deflated from her tension. 

‘Axel, there you are! We were worried!’ His mother called, her words filling him with relief. Home. They felt to him a warm embrace from the foul scolding he had been subjected to for hours. She rushed over to wrap her arms around her son. Her arms only came to his middle, yet Axel felt he had been taken in an overwhelming bear hug. ‘It is close to dawn. You know you-‘

‘- shouldn’t be out this late. I know, Ma.’ He held her close, his warmth coating her ice cold skin. At least he could give her something. Unlike what he had set out to do that day. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t get paid today.’

She didn’t seem worried. He hated when she smiled like that, as though they had plenty. That they had everything they needed, and it wasn’t like this failure of his was going to get them killed one of these days. 

‘Not to worry. There is always tomorrow.’

Yeah. If they make it. On the subject of ‘they’…

‘Where is Shiki?’ Axel said, looking over his mother’s shoulder. 

His mother curled into his side, turning in his grasp to point to the house.

‘Eating. Have you eaten?’

‘Yes’ He lied, smiling brightly. Now to embellish. ‘A creamy mushroom soup. Same they gave to the Prince, in fact.’

His mother’s eyebrows shot into her headdress, disappearing beneath a layer of worn red fabric. 

‘You’ll grow strong before you know it with that sort of food!’ 

‘I’ll try to bring you some next time.’

He wasn’t sure he could keep his promise of soup, but he was sure His Royal Highness wouldn’t mind a few missing breads or slices of meat… or some cheese. Maybe he could even smuggle out a small cake. A little one, perfect for his little sister. Who was bounding toward him with a large grin on her face. 

‘You’re back!’ Shiki cried out, throwing herself into Axel’s spare arm. Her skinny arms like ice against his burning skin. ‘Ahh, I was freezing.’

‘I’m starting to think you two only missed me for my fire.’ Axel snorted, shrugging off his coat and throwing it over his sister. She yelped, then tucked herself in, wiggling into Axel’s side. 

‘No, what gave you that idea?’ His mother tightened her grip around him. ‘Shall we head out?’

A few streets away lay home. Chucked at the end of a dingy alley, squashed between two rotting houses. The houses leant on each other for support, sagging under the collective weight of poverty and greedy landlords. All in all, it was a murky green/brown. The streets were in desperate need of repaving and a gutter. Though they were technically considered the gutter by the nobles. Hm. Maybe best not to think about that.

His shelter was small, completely falling apart. But it didn’t look any different from the rest of the street. Wet wood and creaking window frames with shattered glass. Splashes of grubby paint slapped on the side of buildings, with words that were incomprehensible to Axel. Maybe they weren’t words at all. Maybe they were nice pictures. Wouldn’t that be nice?

Axel walked beside his mother, fishing around in his pockets for some coins. Two coins clinked together in his pocket, his heart leaping for a moment. Six whole coins! He pulled them out and examined them… a small silver button, the rest, a deep copper. He dove his hand back into his trousers. With any luck… he should have… enough. He hid his sigh behind a smile, returning his arm around his mother, giving her a squeeze. Enough for them, at the very least. Maybe even something for their breakfast tomorrow. 

By the door, sat the same old greasy man that had sat there for the last twelve years. In all that time, Axel wasn’t sure he had ever changed his clothes. Maybe it was too late now. His skin would peel off with his socks. As they approached, a pair of gleaming yellowed eyes appeared from under his hat.

“Six munny.” The man barked, sticking his gloved hand, his fingernail piercing the end.

“Six?!” Axel faltered for a moment, before regaining his nerve. “It’s always been three.”

“Six. Lord says tomorrow, it’s gonna be twelve.”

“You can shove your lordship’s ‘Six’ up his arse.”

“Twenty-four ” A sickening grin slid across his face, broken teeth appearing behind cracked lips. “Lord’s orders.”

Axel pulled out all six coins from his pocket, pressing them into the mains outstretched hand.

‘Asshole.’ Axel muttered under his breath, he knew the man was unfamiliar with the particular word. He earned a small slap on his arm from his mother.

‘One day they’ll learn what you are saying.’ His mother scolded.

‘I can’t wait for then.’ Axel replied, ignoring the glares of those around them, as though his language was a swear. ‘Let’s find a space.’

To call it a shelter would be an insult to the word itself. A shelter implies safety. A place of respite. Somewhere the desperate can be assured that they will not be harmed for one single night. Where one might find clean water and a comfortable place to rest their head. A place that was warm, with food available at a person’s very desire… This place was none of those things.

Crowded. 

That would be the first word one would think upon entering the shelter. At least fifty people had managed to squeeze themselves into the room, with the next room adjacent beginning to fill. It reeked of an odour so foul it was a slap to the face. Urine, burning the nostrils and stripping it of hair. Bodies. There was little space to rest, and if you did find yourself a spot, you’d share the same inch with four others. It was noisy. Children complaining of hunger, small babies screaming. Exhausted adults arguing over space and kicking out for more room. Gaunt, haunted and ruined. Sunken faces. Vacant eyes. Numb to the world around them, to their lives that tick by them in pangs of emptiness and crippling pain. 

A constant hum of activity, which continued well into the Turn of the First. It was cramped in that room. Every room in the house was cramped. Every house on the street was cramped. The nights were spent in a wild tumble of arms and legs, moth eaten blankets and dribbling faces. It was worse in the winters, where it became almost impossible to turn over, or find space for you to stretch your legs out. A problem for a relatively tall man such as Axel, whose bones would lock in place and be an utter pain in the ass to shake out in the morning. A problem he thought he should try and resolve soon, as he had thought every grandturn since the invasion. The autumn had ended, and the leg locking monturns of agony were upon them.

Axel found no trouble moving his little family into the centre of the room. Most people would move out of the way for him. Not out of a sign of any respect or anything. No. It was difficult for someone like him to command much respect out of anyone. Perhaps it was out of fear, or a far more selfish reason. He had a funny suspicion on their reasons for parting the sea to allow them the warmest spot of the entire shelter. That was the funny thing about Light. A gift that was made to be shared, to be given to someone else. Whether the person willed it to be or not. 

Axel didn’t care what others got from him. A warm spot meant his family would survive another night. That was enough.  
He settled into his usual spot, his sister curling against his side and his mother resting her head on his shoulder. He let himself relax as best he could. It didn’t take long for the room to grow warm, and the pain of the ever-present chill melted off those around him. Children settled; adults lulled into sleep. The one moment of silence the shelter would experience, until the warmth was taken for granted. For now, they slept. 

‘Axel.’ A whisper came from beside him.

He turned his head to look at Shiki, noting how red her nose had become. She was huddled in Axel’s coat, swamped in it. The warmth from her brother and the threads of fabric fighting off the bitter tendrils of cold that were aching to claim her. The cold relented at the heat, choosing to take the little it could from her breath. Claiming it as its own, taking it away to the nothing. 

“Hm?”

‘I got a job.’

‘Huh? You’re eight-‘

‘In the Gradient! Not too far away from here! It’s a lady with a tearoom and a-‘ A harsh ‘shh’ came from the lump beside her, not that Shiki paid it much mind. Her voice turned into a far more annoying whisper. ‘-she said she’d teach me to read!’

‘And Ma? Where is she going to go?’

‘The lady said Mama can come in too. She can do the breads!’

Axel frowned. It seemed almost too good to be true. A bad idea. What kind of woman takes two other women off the streets and gives them jobs? Was it even a job? From his experience, it sounded far more like a ‘job’. Something an eight year old should not be getting involved with. Or his mother, for that matter. 

‘Yeah, no. You ain’t doing that.’ Axel said, shaking his head at the very thought of it.

‘Huh? Why not? Mama said it was okay.’

‘Ma did?’ He cast an eye to his mother, silent and asleep. Keeping out of the argument. ‘And what else did Ma say?’

‘That you’d say no. We already worked there today though. It was nice.’ 

Axel sighed, pulling his sister closer to his side. There was no stopped those two, not really. They would just do as they pleased. With or without Axel’s approval. Then again, it wasn’t like he could really tell them what to do. He never could. And being completely honest, it was his mother that got him his job. 

‘Fine, fine. As long as Ma goes with you…’ 

She made a small sound, resting her head back onto his shoulder. She must be exhausted. He was exhausted too. At least he knew they would be going somewhere safe tomorrow, rather than roaming the streets and dodging trouble. It was one less thing to worry about. That, and a little more money might mean they could pay the ridiculous price increase the shelter demanded. Even then… it was probably worth finding somewhere to stash money until they had enough to go back home. Ugh. Axel gave his family a little squeeze. They’ll be alright. They’ve made it this far. He just had to keep his head down. After his shocking performance last night, he couldn’t afford any more mistakes. 

He hoped he hadn’t ruined his second chance. 

Echoes of laughter floated around Axel head, flowing in through his ear and nestling itself quite comfortably in his memory. The laughter that had sent fear shuddering through his bones, tingling his spine and quaking his boots… it seemed to have mellowed out into something far softer. Especially so that he could now think back on it and not associate it with his death. He had, surprisingly, made it home in one piece. 

It had been a wonderful sound. It’s a shame it had to come from someone so… so… unexpected. Yeah. It was beautiful. That he had managed to make a such a delightful sound come from such a serious looking guy. The look of bliss and relief that had swept through the Prince’s features, lighting up what once was a dark expression. It was as though he hadn’t laughed in years, like the Prince had surprised himself at how delightful it was to laugh, like he had forgotten how. He wouldn’t mind seeing that smile again. Something precious like that ought to be treasured. Maybe not at the expense of his own life. Maybe not. As Shiki closed her eyes and let Axel’s natural warmth flood her soul, Axel found it hard to sleep. 

The sound of laughter tinkling in his ears like bells.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright you can have another of the re-written version (With added world building taken out)... this time. 
> 
> Find me on twitter: @LizzyMaySpd. Comments are super welcome! What did you like? Dislike? Did I leave my world bits in there? Whoops if I did.


	3. A headache and a half

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is now straight re-uploads. If you want to know more about TMAPS: The revised, please let me know!

“When I employed you, I didn’t think I was going to have to be actively trying to ensure you wouldn’t lose your head,” Saix said after a long silence. He gestured to a large amount of paper at his desk. "You're late.

Axel shrugged, it wasn’t really his fault that the Yen Sid was trying to ensure his death. At least his childhood idol knew his name… just not in the way he would have wanted.

“I like to keep you on your toes.” Axel smiled. He shrugged off his tatty outdoor coat in favour of a smart jacket, fitted to his slender frame, stitched with gold and heavy golden buttons. Just to be clear, this wasn’t his at all. It was his uniform, and something Saix kept in order within the castle walls. Not to be taken home and stolen.

Axel fixed his appearance in line with what was acceptable for the royal family. His long red hair tied up in a terrible plait, not to touch the collar. Fingers and face immaculately clean. A sneaky spray of Saix’s aftershave. To the tune of the scratching of Saix’s quill in the comfortable silence between them.

“I hope you realise how much of a ruckus you made yesterday. Keep your nose clean, I don’t want to be the one cutting you down at sunrise” Saix said, pausing in his writing to watch his colleague. Saix felt the years he had spent building his career slowly fade into dust. Why did he say yes? He should have left Axel to the dogs. The stupid idiot doesn’t even know what he has done yet.

“Nah, you can relax. I’ve got it covered” Saix raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

Axel? On top of something? Unheard of. Axel continued, regardless.

“Besides, it wouldn’t be you cutting me down from the gallows. That’s the executioner’s job”

Saix immediately put his head in his hands, groaning loudly in pain. Axel rolled his eyes and skipped out the room, calling over his shoulder that Saix was being over dramatic and to watch out for the ink pot that threatened to tip off the table.

He stepped outside the servant’s quarters and straight into a bustling service corridor. The Prince should be taking breakfast in his quarters, so he should deliver it now before his Highness needs to use the cane to smack down some peasants at noon. Again, Axel was a wine pourer. He had no idea of the Prince’s daily schedule, but he liked to imagine that the Prince was a little tougher than last night made him out to be. 

The only difference Axel had noticed since leaving the Servant Quarters was how all eyes bored into him the second, he walked into a new room. Like everyone knew something he didn’t. Which didn’t surprise him in the slightest? He was new, after all. He made his way up to the Prince’s chambers but found it to be empty. So, he turned back around again and back down to the entrance hall, hoping to find someone who may know where the Prince is.

As luck would have it, the snooty Aide from the previous night burst out from the Grand Hall, muttering angrily under his breath. He then scuttled across the hall and through a set of doors, vanishing out of sight. Now Axel didn’t want to call himself a detective, but he deduced that would be where the Prince was hiding. An early hour for him to be holding court. It must be important.

He hurried into the foyer of the Grand Hall, only to be met by a tidal wave of wealthy looking men and women. All dressed to the nines and all looking increasingly bored as their Aide’s tried to appease them. Weird time to be hosting a party. Axel hastily stepped past them, trying his best not to tread on the expensive silks and frilly laces that lay on the floor from the Ladies dresses. Using his servant privileges, he ran into the Grand hall without being halted.

“Edgar, This is your last warning. Do not bring Prince Naveen in again, I really do not need to hear Simple and Clean on the trumpet. It is a guitar piece. How could I marry a man that plays Simple and Clean on the trumpet?”

The Prince was pacing around the room, his back to Axel. He seemed very upset, though his voice was steady and his face completely blank. Dressed in a set of suit trousers in a dark blue and a plain white shirt, his top button open. His tie, Axel noticed, had been discarded onto the back of the chair. The Prince’s cape draped over the back of the chair, a deliberate lay of a precocious maid. The way it was fanned out really was to make the Prince look larger in his chair. It shimmers under the light, Axel noting the delicate fur was stitched with silver had small sapphires glinting when the eye moved. He really doubted the Prince had even worn it. He was also shocked to see the Prince wearing a barely-there crown, more of the thin circlet than the full crown he wore yesterday. It sat on his head like a halo. It’s a shame his expression was hardly angelic. Though it was more the speed of his pacing that concerned Axel, and the sudden turn to face him that made him jump.

“Edgar I will- oh… you’re that wine pourer from last night.” The Prince relaxed, ever so slightly, shoving his hands into his pockets and resting his weight onto one of his legs.  
Axel half-wished that the Prince had rolled up his sleeves, like in the way some people do when they are about to do some serious gardening. But in a cool way. Not that gardening isn’t cool. Gardening is cool, and if that is one of your interests then by all means garden. Go for it. You look cool.

Axel shook his head from his thoughts, earning a confused eyebrow raise from the Prince. He was very obviously the wine pourer. Axel hurried to correct himself.

“Uh, Yes, Your Highness”

The Prince nodded slowly, albeit confused, then went to sit on one of the more comfortable chairs set out in front of the throne for him. He settled himself down, then neatly folded his hands in front of himself.

“What do you think?” The Prince asked expectantly, looking the servant up and down, blue eyes lingering on the Servant's wild red hair for a moment longer than needed.

Axel’s heart nearly lost a beat, had he not been listening? Fool. How can you not listen to the Prince? He is very important and most importantly, talking to you. He didn’t think he had not been listening. In fact, he rather enjoyed the smooth sound of the Prince’s voice. When it didn’t have that cold edge to it, it sounds very comforting. A soft, fluffy pillow in which you could bury your head in and sleep soundly… shame it’s the same voice that calls for the deaths of hundreds of people. What was the question?

“Hm? About what, Your Highness?”

“Simple and Clean. Personally, I find the song rather grating. But a trumpet rendition? Ridiculous.” The Prince sighed, then shook his head in despair. Geez. Simple and Clean must be terrible. Even worse on the trumpet. Axel really wishes he had more to go on.

“I have no idea what Simple and Clean even sounds like, Your Highness” Axel felt rather stupid.

The Prince, however, threw him a dismissive hand and pinched his nose with the other, looking pained. The second time today Axel had managed to make two separate people pained with his presence.

“Be thankful then. How blessed your life is that you aren’t forced to sit through Simple and Clean.”

Axel wanted to say that he was blessed, but he didn’t feel like gloating in front of the Prince. Sure, he had never heard it, but had the Prince ever heard the bard in the tavern? Like a cat wailing on Purple Breath. Horrific. He realised he had left a rather awkward pause in the conversation, but the Prince hadn’t seemed to notice, instead, watching the Servant shuffle about, trying to disperse imagines of a cat taking drugs.

“Why have you come to visit me… who let you in?” The Prince asked, resting his head on his hand, elbow reclining on the arm of the chair.

Axel hummed. Now he could think of some clever quip or some interesting story to humour the Prince. Just so he could hear that sweet laughter again. Perhaps the truth was best. As his mother always said, ‘It’s better to be yourself’.

“Me. I let myself in, Your Highness” He said.

The Prince let out a short bark of laughter. Not quite as melodic as the one from the night previously, but enough to make Axel’s heart swell at the sound. The light zipped back into the Prince’s eyes, the trumpet a distant thought.

The way the light danced in spirals in the Prince’s eyes, a perfect waltz carefully crafted in an instant. Rock pools filling with life after being submerged in the sea, with crystals that glitter with joy and sparkle in warmth. Paired with the sudden quirk of his lips the instant Axel’s words had left his own. It was simply a delight to behold.

“Did no one question you?” The Prince said with an incredulous tone lacing into his snigger, almost as a disbelieving tease. “You’d think they’d want me assassinated.”

The Prince took the idea of his own assassination in good humour, chuckling to himself at the mere idea of it. Axel was glad someone found their own death funny.

“Honestly your highness, everyone was too busy fussing over your guests to notice me.”

“As it may be so… You came to me for a reason?” The Prince smirked, watching Axel fumble with his pocket. He rubbed it against his trouser leg, before hurrying over to kneel in front of his Prince, holding it out in outstretched arms. Axel cleared his throat.

“Sorry, I wanted to return this to you. See, last night, when I touched your crown? There was a gem on the floor, I assume it came from your crown because it has a-”

Axel pointed to The Prince’s head, only be reminded that the Prince was not wearing the same crown as last night. Threadbare and gold, a subtle hint that the man that stood before him was one of the most powerful men in the entire kingdom. Hm. Axel’s voice caught in his throat, his finger lowering as the action he wanted to take took a nosedive.

“My crown had a…?” The Grave Prince supplied.

“A hole in it. I know they are meant to but- no, this” Axel took it out of his pocket, showing the Prince the sapphire that he was missing so much. “This came out. I tried to give it back yesterday but there wasn’t exactly a good moment to do it.”

The Prince took the gem, rolling it in his fingers. 

“You kept it? Most would have sold it.”

“It wasn’t worth the risk.” Axel shrugged.

The Prince looked closely, deeply into the pools of blue that swirled within the gem. For a moment, The Prince seemed lost within his own thoughts, his mind captured by the stone. He turned it over once more, before holding it out for Axel to take back.

“Axel, I want you to keep this. Let it be my first gift to you.” He said, his fingers lingering on Axel’s outstretched palm. 

They only touched him for a second, but Axel felt like he had been burnt. Which was a very strange feeling to someone who played with fire. He quickly withdrew his hand and put it back into the safety of his pocket, willing the heat in his hands to leave him alone. 

“First gift?” Axel asked.

“I wouldn’t want to limit myself in the number of gifts I have to give to you.” The Grave Prince said, “On that note, I do have a second gift for you.”

Yen Sid had finally convinced the Prince to set a hanging date. At least the Prince was going to tell him in private before he was fed to the blood hungry court. Axel really did mind. He made a small noise in protest to stop the Prince, but it was ignored. Oh no.

The table was no larger than a bed stand, polished to a crisp and shining copper from its surface. On top was a small metal holder, with a piece of rolled parchment proudly wearing a purple wax seal bearing the royal coat of arms. The Prince took it from the stand and turned back towards Axel, the serious mask he wore so well protecting his more delicate expressions. He spoke in an authoritative tone, as though he was addressing the entire hall, not just Axel.

“Axel of Neverwas-“

“I’m from Radiant Garden. Well, I mean, I grew up in your Kingdom, probably way before you were born, Your Highness. But I was born in Radiant Garden. So my name is a little strange. Shiki, my sister, she is of Neverwas… but I’m not, Your Highness. Only of Radiant Garden… Your Highness.”

The Prince blinked, cleared his throat and started again.

“Axel of Radiant Garden.“

“Yes.”

The Prince stared at him.

“Axel of Radiant Garden - Will you allow me to finish?” The Prince snapped impatiently as soon as Axel opened his mouth to speak again. A beat of silence followed, in which Axel decided to put an end to the gag and kneel quietly. The Prince continued.

“Axel of Radiant Garden, I give to you the Royal Herald’s Announcement from Spring last year.” The Prince said, tapping the parchment with a slender finger. He took in the blank look of confusion on Axel’s face

“Uh…”

“I hope you had settled in the Kingdom long enough to have heard it”

Axel bit his lip, then shook his head.

“Uh… I was, but I was a bit uh… was it important, Your Highness?”

The Prince tensed his jaw ever so slightly, not enough to look angry, but enough to convey a small twinge of surprise. Axel noted how the Princes' eyes darted between Axel and the parchment, the drop of the Prince’s shoulders, the almost nervous fiddle of the parchment.

“I would say so… Here. It is for you.” The Prince handed Axel the parchment, “You may read it now.”

Oh dear. What a conundrum this has become. A fool to read a fools very important message. See now, Axel hadn’t bothered to learn to read. He’s already pushing twenty-five, he’s managed this long without it. It’s not that he didn’t want to learn, it more that he never needed to. He could match the letters to the wine someone requested. For example, the weird wobbly zig zag and the one that looked a bit like a crucifix was apparently letters in the word for Merlot. Since that’s what some Nobles enjoyed, Axel was very good at picking out that one. Anything else was more of a guessing game. So far, he’d been good at hiding his inability to read. Until, of course, now. 

With shaking fingers, Axel released the parchment from its seal, letting it spool out in his hands. He died a little inside when he noted the cursive hand it was written in. How are you supposed to see a crucifix and a wobbly zig zag if it all looks like it was done upside down by a blind bat? A blind bat could read this better than he could. In fact, Axel wished he was a blind bat so he could pretend he didn’t see the Prince’s face, so he wouldn’t be disappointed when he realised Axel couldn’t read. A bat wouldn’t have this much trouble. Nay, at least he could say he was a bat and leave through the nearest window. Axel could do that now if he wanted to… but the moat was deep and he did not have wings… nor knew where exactly the Grand Hall lay in relation to the mote or how many stories tall it was off the ground. Axel’s heart sank as he examined the incomprehensible script. It’s in paragraphs… at least a fistful of them. Someone had to read this out?

Axel didn’t really know what to do. So he did what he does best. He pretended.

“Ah… I see…” Axel nodded solemnly, re-rolling the parchment as he did so. “I guess you gotta find a balance.”

Hey, it was the best he could come up with. It appeared to be the most nonsensical answer he could have given, considering the reaction of the Prince.

“… You… are illiterate?” The Prince squinted at Axel, looking immensely confused.

Axel didn’t know what to say to that. It would have helped knowing what it meant. To be illiterate. He struggled to gauge the tone of his Master’s question. Should he say yes? ‘Yes, of course, Your Highness. What do you take me for? A fool? Ha ha ha’. They stared at each other for what felt like a lifetime, when Axel finally cracked.

“…No?”

“Ah.” The Prince tapped his lip for a moment, then broke out into a smirk. Axel wasn’t sure if the smile was meant to reassure him or not. “I suppose that makes it easier.”

“Easier, Your Highness?”

“Yes.”

The Prince sat back down in front of his kneeling servant. He looked up at the ceiling, as though he was working something out in his head, silent for a moment. A punishment perhaps? The mischievous edge to his smile and the glitter swimming in his eyes indicated that punishment was not about to be administered. 

“From this day until the day you can read, you will become my personal Aide. You will be by my side. For better or for worse, through hunt and court, until you can tell me what you make of the message.”

It didn’t really sound like he had much of a choice. He looked back up to the Prince.

“And say I read it… then what?”

The Prince bit into the challenge, leaning forward till he was nose to nose with his Servant. His voice lowered to a whisper, his blue eyes piercing into Axel’s green ones.

“That is up to you.” The Prince lent back and gestured to the door. “Now, if you accept… Inform those Lords and Ladies that the Prince has chosen. Their attendance is no longer required.”

“At once, Your Highness.”

Axel stood to leave, tucking the parchment into his suit jacket. Where to begin? Perhaps with trying to unpack what just happened? He was now promoted? Until he could learn to read? Maybe Axel would never read the parchment. That way he wouldn’t be able to lose his job. That sounded like a good plan.

He made his way over to the heavy oak door and put his hand on the handle, stopping only to hear the Prince call after him.

“If Prince Naveen still here, Dispose of his trumpet. And him... The Moat should do nicely”

Axel really didn't know if the Prince was joking or not.

But Axel isn't a man who does jobs by halves.


	4. A Victory Bite

As soon as Axel had sorted out Prince Naveen and the other nobles, he had been whisked away by a giggling maid to change his uniform. He had been led back into town, to a small shop in the middle gradient. The Maid had passed a small scroll to the seamstress, who completely lost her lid with delight upon reading it. Axel was shoved into the backroom, and work began immediately.

Now he had to wear far more formal clothes and was given a special wardrobe to take home. Fabrics far more expensive than Axel had ever hoped to hold, let alone be dressed in, ranging from hunt wear with long boots and cropped jackets, to evening wear and court attire. Polished boots he could see his face in, jackets in an array of colours and lengths, some with tails and some without. Pressed trousers he was expected to maintain- though he wasn’t sure how he’ll keep the central crease so precise. Even the white shirts had their flair, with cuffs that could trail to his knees or ones that needed special cuff-links to hold the sleeves together. He hoped the seamstress would give him some since he didn't own any cuff-links. He was measured from top to bottom, the seamstress taking far more interest in him now than when he first arrived for his servant jacket… he wasn’t going to have to pay for all of this… was he?

“Pay? HA! No no, I’m honoured enough that the Prince thought of me to create the uniform. My work, next to royalty! And you make such an excellent model, Milord.”

“Oh, no. I’m not a Lord, Miss. I’m the-“

“Lord or not, you’ll look the part when I’m through with you. Oh, how wonderful! Now, if you would stay still…”

Axel used his time as a statue to examine the room. It was a labour of love, with spools of wool and threads hanging from the ceiling, between shelves and on tables. Rolls of fabrics of all colours, cuts and textures lined the room. Softest cashmere, vibrant velvets and shimmering satins. Axel could hardly wrap his head around it or imagine the skill of the person taking in his fourth jacket. The room was lit up in a vague pink light, which confused Axel until he noticed a length of pink muslin draped over a lamp… a fire hazard if Axel had ever seen one. It was a beautiful room, and one Axel was sure the seamstress took great pride in.

“Alright, I think we should call this the last jacket for today. I’ll take in the others, but you can wear this one for today. Come back tomorrow and I’ll swap you with yours.” The seamstress said, taking out the final pin from Axel’s jacket.

“I can keep these?” Axel said in bewilderment. If he was honest, he thinks these would be torn from his hands the instant he took them back to the Gutter. If he wasn’t slaughtered for them in the first place.

“Of course! If you need them repaired or altered at any time, come straight back to me. I’ll fix them for you, good as new!” She gave Axel a wink, then took the armful of jackets into a backroom.

The door bounced open, revealing a room akin to a dressing room, with a few poised mannequins on which the seamstress dressed. Axel’s jacket looked amazing. The inkiest black with the Royal Crest embellished over his heart, starkly contrasted with the signature golden buttons and tasteful gold stitching.

There was no doubt about it. They would be robbed of him before they even made it to the safety of his clothes box at home. And even then, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be stolen.

“Uh- I don’t want to sound rude… but maybe they could stay here?” Axel stepped off the podium he had been on, brushing himself down. The seamstress regarded him with a frown, so Axel continued. “I live in the outer district.”

The seamstress couldn’t hide her shock quick enough, the expression slapping itself across her face before she could even try to hide it with her hand. Axel fully understood.

How on earth had a gutter rat been allowed to work this close to the Prince?

At least, that is what her horrified expression told him. And Axel got it. That’s the reaction he had gotten down at the tavern when he had told his friends of his new job pouring wine… though a bit on the opposite ends. How could Axel work for the very family that ignored the cries of its most impoverished? Pour wine for the selfish Prince and his friends? Sure, there was a fight afterwards... one that ended with his childhood friend bleeding. But was it so bad that Axel wanted to live better? Safe to say they were no longer friends with Axel.

The seamstress pulled herself together, then nodded. No more words were said between them, there didn’t need to be. She knew her work would be mocked if it was found lying in the gutter, and Axel knew it was too great a skill to waste on the crooks that lived down there. The clothes were a work of heart, they didn’t deserve to be passed around the crime gangs. Though, as Axel shut the door on the shop and turned to walk back up to the castle, he couldn’t help but wonder if the reason the Prince chose this shop was because of his low status. In the sense that Axel wasn’t good enough to be fitted by the usual royal seamstress. That thought made Axel feel disgusting. But he chose to ignore it and the boiling of humiliation in his chest. Nothing good ever happened when Axel felt hot.

Axel returned to the castle and was directed to the great hall, where the Prince was taking a late lunch. Though, when Axel was led inside, he hadn’t expected to see yet another person seated with the Prince. Her long blonde hair tucked neatly into a bun, pinned with fine jewels and a small white veil. A silver circlet placed daintily on her head, allowing small curls of her hair to tumble down the side of her face to elegantly frame her exquisite features. A silver dress, one far too beautiful to be worn for this occasion, sat off her shoulder and trailed down to the floor. She was a vision, stunning, and it took Axel all of three seconds to tear his eyes off her. Ah, so this was the Queen. It was so obvious to see where the Prince had been blessed with his angelic looks.

The Prince turned his head to spy who had entered and straightened up slightly, breaking off the murmur of a conversation he had been holding with his mother. Axel bowed to his Prince, who responded with a very small smile. The Queen, however, did not acknowledge Axel. Though her eyes widened at the sight of her son smiling. The conversation resumed, as Axel took his place by the wall.

“You will have to send an apology.” Queen Eliora reprimanded gently, slicing a small piece of lamb and popping it into her mouth. The Prince, of course, gave nothing away with his face. Returning it to its usual stone-cold expression, instead adjusting the angle of his teacup to show his displeasure.

“I believe he should send an apology to me. I gave him my audience, and he gave me pain.”

“You should have asked him to play you another song.”

“The issue is that I dislike the trumpet. Nothing he could have played would have brought me any joy. It was his mistake for bringing his family heirloom. I refuse to waste our people’s time looking for it.” The Prince picked up the teacup and took a sip. Axel half thought to go over and refill the cup, but it was done by another servant before Axel had moved a muscle. Wow. Efficient.

The Queen sighed, then turned to her Aid. “Please, write to the Prince on my son’s behalf and express sorrow for the loss of an important heirloom…”

The Prince rolled his eyes, stabbing his slice of lamb and shoving it into his mouth. The Queen’s eyes darted from her son’s to her Aid’s.

“…And tell the groundskeeper not to worry. I’m sure it’ll turn up eventually.”

Axel had a feeling that the trumpet would not turn up any time soon. He had a great throwing arm, and oh boy, the noise it had made when it hit the water was fantastic. Like a sad jester in a well, screaming for help and no one will come… until the mote dries up. Oh well. He caught the Prince’s eye, and for a brief flicker of a moment, the humour of the situation danced into his eyes. Lighting up his stony face in an instant, before being extinguished when his gaze returned to his mother. Such a shame… Axel wished he could keep that fire in the Prince’s eyes forever. Something about it just kept pulling him in, the want to keep the joy present and constant. He did notice that the Prince’s cheeks had relaxed from their tense position, and he did seem more at ease.

If it takes throwing a hundred Prince’s and their instruments into the mote to keep this Prince happy, then so be it.

The Queen returned to face her son, neatly placing her cutlery on her plate. Her son copied her, and soon they were taken away and replaced with a small cake. Chocolate? Axel could hardly believe it. The Kingdom wasn’t known for manufacturing chocolate, it was so rare to see it pass through its gate. If it wasn’t for the fact it was brown, and, in a cake, Axel would not have been able to guess that this is what it was. He was so jealous, and if he was on better terms with the Prince, he would have demanded a bite. He tried not to dribble. The Prince didn’t notice the green-eyed monster growing in against the wall of the great hall and took a forkful of the goods. Such a shame you’d never know if he was enjoying it or not.

The Queen, on the other hand, did not touch her cake. Instead, turning her eyes to the new servant that stood against the wall.

How interesting.

The Queen hadn’t seen Prince Roxas smile since the Invasion. Not that she could fault him for that. The darkness of that day had taken such light from him… she counted herself lucky that her son remained with light. She was lucky to have one of her children still with her. The Prince had never returned to the carefree, happy child he was before the Invasion… but just now… just for a moment.

The steep wall her son had created around him crumbled.

At the sight of that servant.

How very interesting indeed.

She wondered if that servant even knew what he had done… from the way the two regarded each other, it appeared as though the servant knew nothing. Had her son done that deliberately? She wasn’t going to ask with the servant in the room, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t tease her precious baby.

“Edgar told me that you had called off the Audience with the Suitors early” She started, watching with interest in how her son’s chewing stopped abruptly. “Shortly after Prince Naveen… upset you.. with his trumpet.”

The Prince cleared his throat, then gave his mother one of his favourite dead-eyed stares.

“I had simply had enough of entertaining them. That is all.”

“Your father told you to speak with them until you had chosen one.” The Queen internally squirmed with delight at the sight of her son becoming increasingly flustered.

He did an excellent job at appearing as though he was in normal conversation, but he couldn’t hide his emotional distress from his mother. It was in his eyes that failed him, every single time. They darted around, trying to look at anything other than his mother until he had thought of an appropriate answer when they would lock back to hers.

“I had. They have been informed.” The Prince said curtly, then calmly stuffing his face with cake.

Oh, Roxas.

How foolish to think that your mother wouldn't find out.

The Queen thought that she could poke the lion, one last time before it tried to bite her head off.

“Oh what wonderful news! We must celebrate!” She almost burst out laughing at the panic-stricken look that dashed through his eyes, despite his face looking as though he could murder her. He could try, but he would fail. She clapped her hands together, then beckoned over the Prince’s Aid. “Please, send out invitations to the Prince’s and Princess’s of Hollow Bastin, Radiant Garden, Twilight and Destiny. They must come at once to celebrate with you!”

With that, the Prince’s Aide dashed out of the room, frowning so deeply and so busy in his thoughts that he did not hear his Prince call out to him. The Prince shoved the last mouthful of cake into his face, then took his cape from his chair, standing up and tying it around his neck. He took a few strides towards the door, when he turned back to his mother, pointing an accusing finger.

“Not a word to father.” He said, and with that, he left. His cape whipping to the side as he fled the room.

The Queen burst into laughter, finally taking a well-deserved spoonful of cake.

The game was afoot, and she’ll be damned if she wasn’t going to immediately inform the King of everything she had discovered.


	5. In Which Axel Kicks a horse

The Prince’s Cousin, Prince Sora of The Radianglade, rode into the castle not three days after the invitations had been sent. A great fanfare greeting him, with the noblest of nobility gathering into the courtyard to receive their most honoured guest.

Not a foot was stepped outside the carriage before Prince Roxas called for a hunt to begin to celebrate their reunion. With the rest of the party due to arrive later in the afternoon, the Prince had wanted some private time to reconnect with his cousin.

Axel had received no heads up at all that this was the plan for the morning.

Like none. At all. Not even a short letter that he wouldn’t be able to read.

Or maybe the Prince had informed him but he just didn’t know.

It was too late for that now anyway, he had spent the last half an hour rallying the forces whilst the Prince’s changed into more appropriate outfits. He didn’t realise there was so much to consider.

For example, what would the Prince’s eat for lunch? How many horses and horsemen needed to accompany them? What kind of beast were they hunting for, and did they have the appropriate equipment? How was he going to ensure he brought the Princes back in one piece? Should guards accompany them? A medic? Bannermen? It was too much for Axel’s head, he could barely talk to these people on a one to one basis, let alone command them. Thank Goodness Prince Sora’s aide, Zexion, was present.

“Really now, it’s just a hunt. I hesitate to see how well you’ve planned for the bachelor party.” Zexion flicked his hair out of his face, pulling on his standard hunting clothing. Not that they would hunt… just assist the Princes as needed.

“I was meant to plan that?” Axel’s stomach dropped. If the hunt was meant to be easy, he had no hope in hell of planning a party.

How many guests? Did the Prince want a private function, or should the whole kingdom celebrate? Was a ball in order? Should the bride be told? Whoever was the bride? He really should have listened to Saix… he should never have found that stupid jewel.

He was about to respond to Zexion’s groan of disappointment when he spotted the Princes emerge into the courtyard, deep in conversation. How is it that the Prince could look so handsome in both formal and casual wear? It wasn’t the bright cerulean jacket that caught his eye at first, but the cream coloured trousers and chaps. Perfectly fitting for form and showing off a strong pair of thighs that were clearly no stranger to riding. His hair fluttering in the gentle morning breeze. The sunlight only reinforcing his angelic looks, as it travelled through his blonde hair like a halo on a saint. He had a confident stride about him, his riding hat tucked neatly under his arm with his whip steady at his side. Though he nodded seriously at his cousin’s excited chatter, Axel could tell the Prince was at ease, his shoulders open and relaxed.

Axel couldn’t help but stare.

Both Prince’s had selected dark brown horses, kitted out with the finest leather saddles embellished with the respective royal crest that hung proudly around the horse’s neck. Having clipped on his helmet, Prince Roxas placed one foot onto the stirrup and masterfully swung his other leg over the horse. Axel would be lying if he hadn’t watched the action with great interest. Particularly how the fabric was incredibly tight on the Prince’s behind and Axel thanked every single seamstress in the land for that perfect choice of design. He didn’t celebrate long.

The Prince had caught him staring.  
… And didn’t seem angry?

“Has something caught your eye, Axel? Is there something wrong with my outfit?” The Prince said, turning his horse around to trot next to his aid, looking down on him with a superior smirk. He knew full well there was nothing wrong with his outfit, only terrible terrible rights. Axel, not one to allow such a smirk to be directed at him, smiled brightly back up to the Prince.

“Not at all, in fact, I was admiring the fabric. An excellent fit, Your Highness” Axel allowed his eyes to flick back down to his new favourite spot of interest, then to meet his Prince’s amused eyes once more.

“My my, aren’t we bold.” The Prince’s smirk turned into a genuine smile. One point for Axel. Looks like today’s hunt has already been a success before it event started. “Get on your horse, we’ll begin on my cousin’s call.”

With a smart flick of his wrist, the Prince urged his horse forward, stepping in line with his cousin. The Radiant Prince looked visibly surprised by the small smile that graced the Prince’s lips, it must have been years since he had seen anything akin to joy appear on his face.

“I didn’t know you enjoyed hunting this much. If I had known I would have suggested it sooner…” Prince Sora said, feeling a small bubble of warmth blossom in his chest at the sight of his cousin disguising a snort with a cough.

No matter how much the Grave Prince touched his face, there was no wiping away that gleeful little grin.

“Believe me, Cousin, this is going to be a hunt to remember.” The Prince said, settling himself in his saddle, the smile resting easily on the Prince’s face as though it had always been there. As though it had never even left.

Prince Sora eyed his cousin suspiciously. This was certainly new, not unwelcome, but new.

Whoever the Prince had chosen must be really something.

When the Radiant Prince had received the invite he nearly collapsed in shock. His own cousin finally found someone who could put up with his grumpy charm, and better yet, make him smile at the mere thought of them and the celebrations! Prince Sora had always thought he would marry first since Princess Kairi finally came of age this year. But no, Prince Roxas had beaten him to it by all of a few months. Ridiculous. He must pester his cousin about the identity of this person, thus far he had been tight-lipped on the subject. 

Or perhaps if the Prince wasn’t going to give up the information that easily, he would have to settle for the next best thing. The Prince’s Aide.

Who, as Prince Sora saw, was making a right fool of himself trying to mount a horse.

The Prince’s Aide was hardly dignified, appearing to shake as he put his foot into the stirrup. The stirrup twirled out of his foot’s aim, forcing the Aide to chase it with his foot until some poor stable hand put him out of his misery. The stable hand held the saddle in place, urging the Aide to get on the horse, noticing the pair of Prince’s watching him and mistaking it for impatience. The Aide looked extremely unsure, and though Prince Sora couldn’t hear the conversation, he could see the frustration mounting in the stable hand’s strained smile. The Aide kept lifting his foot on and off the step he was given, but never managed to generate enough momentum to get his leg over the horse, instead, kicking its side. Again. And again. And again.

If Prince Sora was a horse, he would have trampled the fool into dust.

The Aide finally managed to swing his leg over the horse, managing to clip the Stable Hand’s face with his boot with a satisfying slap. The Aid tried to apologise, but the stable hand stomped away, massaging the pain in his jaw as he left.

Prince Roxas enjoyed that, chuckling quietly to himself as he readied to trot off into the distance.

Huh…

Prince Sora decided to keep his observation to himself, instead, taking a deep breath and calling for the hunt to begin.

Axel found himself precariously balanced atop a less than noble steed. He tried his best to make it seem like he knew how to ride a horse. He really did try.

“I saw that.” Zexion scowled, his tone dangerously low. He steadied his horse by Axel’s side, sitting far more comfortably than Axel would ever hope to achieve.

Axel decided that he would not be intimidated by such a short man. It’s not his fault he couldn’t ride a horse. He, unfortunately, wasn’t brought up with a silver spoon for his milk. The closest thing he had to riding a horse was his father giving him a piggyback as a child. Zexion obviously was the type of person to never have been carried around via piggyback and was miserable just as so. Axel copied the stony look of his master.

Well.

He tried to.

“Saw what?”

Zexion gave Axel a hard glare, as though he was stupid. Axel was starting to feel as though they were talking about different things. It was a bit of an overreaction for kicking a horse by accident.

“You ought to be more careful. If the wrong person saw you, you’ll be hanged for treason.”

“That’s a dangerous word to be throwing around. I’m sure you know the sentence for slander?” Axel asked innocently, his tone deliberately not matching the cold face he turned to Zexion.

“You could try threatening me when you aren’t clinging to a horse like a child… you can ride a horse, can't you?” Zexion rolled his eyes at Axel, who had been slipping to the side of his saddle.

His grip on the reins was so tight it looked painful. The fact that Zexion could see Axel’s hands was a disgrace, where on earth were his riding gloves? His boots were already scuffed from doing nothing at all, and he clearly did not know how to wear a riding helmet. The helmet was on backwards for crying out loud. His hair was a mess, sticking out from all angles, and the ribbon that was supposed to secure it lay within the dirt of the stable floor. He looked like his helmet was trying to contain an explosion of red wine… and those marks on his face. Hideous.

This is the Prince’s Aide?

Had no one told him that he was being made a fool of? A jester in a suit jacket… where is this idiot’s riding jacket?

“Of course. Why?”

Axel had never ridden a horse. And at the sound of Prince Sora calling the hunt to attention, and the dogs gleefully running ahead of the party, Axel started to sweat.

Oh well, how hard can it be?

Extremely difficult.

As it turned out.

He watched hopelessly as Zexion kicked his horse into action, closely tailing his master. The Princes sped off into the distance, with Prince Sora calling back to Prince Roxas how they should race to the meadows. It didn’t take long for Prince Roxas to overtake his cousin.

A thunder of hooves hit the ground, sounds of swords clattering against their sheaths, clattering off into the horizon. The joyous cries of men ready to go and kill something. Bannermen, guards, other nobles that Axel could not remember the names of, even the allocated picnic squire. All run off into the woods. And Axel. Didn’t. His horse was absolutely broken. Stupid horse.

He gave it a kick, but it did nothing. It just stood there like a donkey. Hm. Now that he looked at it, he wasn’t sure what the difference was between a horse and a donkey was… he may as well be riding a rocking horse with stabilisers on. Pointless to even try.

How do you encourage a horse to move? He gave it some gentle inspiration with the whip he was given, but he felt that it was too cruel to strike the beast. He gave it more of a stroke than anything.

Axel couldn’t help but feel the eyes of the stable hands on him. What kind of personal Aide to the Prince couldn’t ride a horse? This one. He had never felt so embarrassed before in his life. The snarky murmurs of the Stable Hands floated to his ears:

No way that the Prince chose him.

No way.

Look at him, he can’t even ride a horse.

How embarrassing!

Isn’t he meant to be riding alongside the Prince?

Awful.

I’d be mortified if I was the Prince.

Expecting a Gutter Rat to keep up with the Kingdom’s finest, an utter disgrace.

Axel’s cheeks flushed red, an itchy sensation covering his entire body. It’s not his fault no one taught him to ride. This is truly a once in a lifetime experience, and he wasn’t even able to enjoy it because the stupid horse won’t obey him. It just stood there, ignoring his kicks and taps and silent pleas to move! Ugh, he was growing irritated by the second. He looked down at the floor, tears of frustration pricking at his eyes.

He started to feel hot, the type of heat no amount of deep breathing would counter.

“Don’t be nervous” The Prince’s smooth voice drifted through the air, lifting Axel’s head upright in an instant. “The horse can smell fear.”

“I thought you had ridden on ahead, Your Highness?”

“And leave you behind on your first hunt? I am appalled you think that little of me. Come, I’ll talk you through it.” The Prince trotted over to Axel, taking a hold of his servant’s hands to adjust their hold on the reins. He raised an eyebrow, casting a glance up to Axel. “You are with magic?”

“Uh… fire, your Highness.” Axel said nervously, a little distracted by the Prince’s hold. He tried to dispel some of the heat from his hands, but with little success. He was never good with his magic when he felt even the slightest bit uncomfortable, and the Prince holding his hands certainly didn’t help. He was thankful the Prince was wearing gloves… he had no idea how hot his hands were. But the Prince didn’t seem alarmed, rather, quietly impressed. He straightened up in his saddle, gesturing to Axel to do the same.

“Are you quite sure you aren’t of noble birth, my dear servant? I have not heard of a peasant being blessed with such a complex school of magic?”

Now if Axel wasn’t stupid, he would think that the Prince looked hopeful. The playful tease playing on the Prince’s lips and the charm that sparkled in his eyes on asking such a bold question. Had Axel been of noble birth he would have put the Prince in his place on asking such an intrusive question.

Questioning someone on the origin of their magic was the social equivalent of asking someone how much money they earned a year. Unless it was immediately obvious, you do not ask. The power and status of your magic could change your life for better or for worse… that is, if you are with magic.

The gift of Fire was in all rights, a powerful one. It was the basis for life and one of humanities greatest adversaries. Axel’s status, his ability to develop his magic, was dire. Sure, if he was a higher status, he could decimate an entire kingdom in a snap of his fingers. In reality, he could just about manage to light a lantern. But Axel isn’t in a position to put the Prince in his place, and certainly did not fancy testing the good mood of the Grave Prince.

“I’m not sure I appreciate your wording, but I get what you mean… I wish I could answer, I was just born with it, Your Highness.” Axel said, fiddling with his reins, immediately dropping the position the Prince had moved his hands into. The Prince reached over again and corrected it, his hands lingering on his servants for a moment longer, taking in the warmth and stealing it for himself.

“Keep your secrets then, but know that I always find out in the end” The Prince took his own reins again, then with a quick jerk of his heel, he kicked his horse into a slow walk. “Walk on.”

As if by magic, Axel’s horse started to move, even walking a little faster at the clicking of the Prince’s tongue. Axel couldn’t wrap his head around it, and his astounded expression drew the sweet sound of laughter from the Prince’s mouth. A small comment on how Axel should take lessons, with his own servant countering that you would never ride a horse in the Outer District… more likely to eat one.

By the time the pair had caught up with the group, the hunt had already ceased. Prince Sora having claimed victory over a rather horrid looking hog. It sweated and stank like faeces and blood, making Axel gag at the sight of it. However, that only inspired the Prince’s cousin.

As punishment for preventing the Grave Prince from enjoying the hunt, Axel had the joy of carrying the stinking beast on his horse the whole way home.

All to the tune of the Prince chortling away at his servant’s misfortune.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright guys, let's do this thing one more time.
> 
> So, the fic is back! Ta da! 
> 
> Behind the scenes, I have been working on this as an original piece. This chapter is the re-written version my OC's are currently playing in, and probably the only completely rewritten scene I will include. Mostly due to the fact the world the OC's are in is completely different and doesn't make sense in the context of a KH fanfiction. hey ho. If anyone is interested in the new version, please let me know! The fanfiction and the original work have split off from each other, and take a different turn at a certain point. This will just be the fanfiction reuploaded. Thanks to everyone who messaged me asking where the fic went... i thought whilst you wait for the new version, you may as well have the old one. 
> 
> Comments are golden, I would love to know what you guys think!! Thank you all <3


End file.
